


Complementary Angles

by Abarero



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 13:19:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10190723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abarero/pseuds/Abarero
Summary: Sometimes the darkness can not be pushed back. Sometimes, you have to face it, head on. And sometimes, it's best to face it together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For FERarePairWeek #5 - Dreams/Touch
> 
> References made to Libra+Tharja's supports C-A. Lon'qu+Tharja's supports C-A. And Libra+Lon'qu's Summer Scramble supports.

“Come to prod the darkness some more?” Libra asked without looking up. He knew already who had just entered his tent.

 

Tharja looked perplexed, clearly trying to work out a riddle of some sort that had eluded her. Well, Libra had offered help if she found need for it again. And, as a priest, he had stated that his tent was always open to anyone searching for answers. 

 

She seemed to study him for a moment, her expression easing a little. “I see you’ve taken me up on trying to be happier.”

 

Libra shrugged. “I wouldn’t want all your assistance to go to waste, if nothing else. I take it though you have found yourself in need of help again?”

 

Tharja paced, her brows furrowed in thought. “You never asked me why I was doing a hex to change memories, you know?”

 

“I could gauge that you had some personal interest in the matter, yet oddly, I feel like it wasn’t for your benefit. I knew that whatever your reasons were that they would be something I could live with being associated with.”

 

“Considering what I’ve seen of your heart, Libra, there’s a lot of things you don’t mind being associated with.”

 

He chuckled. “Perhaps. It would explain our odd friendship, wouldn’t it though?”

 

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “True. I doubt many priests would want to associate with the likes of me.”

 

“So, I suppose you intend to tell me your purpose for this hex, being as you’ve brought it back up.”

 

“A woman of my profession sometimes attracts an odd crowd of people looking for answers. You weren’t the only person who approached me seeking to change something.” She smiled and for Tharja, it was almost warm. 

 

Libra blinked. Tharja, by nature of her well...nature, didn’t attract all that many visitors. He’d seen Nowi doing her best to coerce a laugh out of her a few times, but Nowi often found the more interesting members of the army a good place to find friends. And despite their similar professions, Henry had been usually too busy stirring up mayhem elsewhere in camp to pester Tharja with his perky demeanor. 

 

“So there’s someone here who needs a memory altered, I take it?”

 

Tharja shrugged. “Which sadly, I couldn’t get to work. So now, well...I’m trying another angle. An angle I admit, is not my forte but may perhaps be yours.”

 

He raised an eyebrow at that. “I may have dirtied my hands with many unsavory deeds, but I don’t believe I can do anything to change a memory.”

 

“No. But you know how to carry that burden. I don’t know if it's your faith or just who you are, Libra, but you carry such a heavy darkness in you and yet, no one would ever know unless they looked really hard.”

 

She looked fond, almost proud of him and Libra kindly did not point it out. 

 

“And this...person? They too have a darkness they need to bear?”

 

Tharja sighed. “It's not my place to give specifics, but I can at least point you in the right direction and hope either you or your gods find the answer I cannot.”

 

“You are a kinder soul than you’d care to let on, Tharja.”

 

“Tch. Don’t let anyone hear you say nice things about me, it’ll ruin my reputation.”

 

He smiled, warm and he hoped, proud of her as well.

 

They were a strange pair; a woman of darkness and a man who followed the light.

 

“Don’t tell him I sent you either. That’s how rumors about me being nice start up and next thing I’ll know I’ll be wearing pastels.”

 

Libra laughed at that. “Well, we can’t have that. So I swear, in Naga’s name, I shall not tell.”

 

“And...be careful about your appearance. He reacts rather...unkindly to the feminine. But, well, I’ll accept his reasons as valid.”

 

Tharja smiled at him, knowing that she’d passed along the person without speaking their name. 

 

“I will see what this humble priest of Naga can do that the powers of darkness cannot.”

 

She chuckled. “Good luck, Libra. You two shall make quite the pair.”

 

He shook his head, wondering just what he’d agreed to. “I suppose we shall.”

 

* * *

 

Libra supposed if anything, he should be glad that Lon’qu didn’t think he was a woman.

 

They’d been at a beach for a day, some outer realm problem, when Lon’qu had approached and shockingly tried to challenge him to a fight. Libra knew he definitely did not fit the saintly image he tried to project, his hands far too stained with blood to ever be worthy; but this seemed to be a misunderstanding more than anything. 

 

He was no battle-loving man with bloodlust in his eyes.

 

Finally he got so frustrated with Lon’qu’s insistence that he was hiding something, that he just...told him. Far far more about himself than he usually told anyone. 

 

He’d seen the flicker of understanding when he’d mentioned his life as an orphan, but the sympathy when he mentioned his parents treatment and abandonment of him was almost too much. Libra was not telling him this for pity! He surmised that all Lon’qu was sensing was his bitter heart, the dark shadow of a youth spent unloved. Perhaps now that he’d bared his heart the man would cease his attempts to fight him.

 

What he hadn’t expected was Lon’qu’s reply. Or his soft smile.

 

“It seems you and I really aren't so different after all.”

 

He paused, his heart racing from his irritation that was ebbing away. “Oh?”

 

The smile faded, replaced instead by a harrowed expression that Libra knew all too well from his own reflection. 

 

“I have a past I'm not so keen on discussing, either. I carry the same darkness as you…”

 

“Lon'qu…”

 

He shook his head, his eyes burning with that fire that always seemed to fuel Lon’qu’s every action. “But you...you're strong enough to keep that darkness buried deep within you. It's that strength of will that gives you such power on the battlefield.”

 

Libra blinked, honestly not quite sure how to take in what he was hearing. His darkness something he could hide away? Well, he’d definitely tried very hard to do so. But, never had he considered it a strength. He thought back to Tharja’s strange fond look and suddenly he understood that she too was impressed by his strength of will. 

 

It humbled him. Truly.

 

“Heh... That's certainly an interpretation I'd like to believe.”

 

Lon’qu’s stalwart expression flickered with guilt. “I'm glad I understand the foundation of your strength now. But I'm sorry for forcing you to speak of such painful memories.”

 

He absently wondered if Tharja may have hexed him with something that ensured he took her up on her matter with Lon’qu. Because, frustration aside, he knew it wasn’t just anyone that was privy to his past. Even with Tharja, who he suspected might come across it, he had made peace with allowing her in. Somehow, he must have sensed that kindred soul in Lon’qu and as such, he’d opened the door so often closed. Naga certainly worked in mysterious ways.

 

“There's no need to apologize. It's not a story I share with just anyone... I feel better having been able to talk about it with you.”

 

That solemn smile was back on his face. Libra found it a comfort, knowing that somehow Lon’qu too was fighting against his darkness. 

 

“Then I'm glad. If there's anything you want to say, know that you can say it to me.”

 

“Thank you, Lon'qu.”

 

* * *

 

Libra was beginning to think Tharja put Lon’qu up to a similar request. That, or Naga or a hex or something was rerouting the path of Libra’s life to align with Lon’qu’s.

 

It had only been a few evenings past their talk on the beach, when far past the reasonable hour, Libra heard a rustle at his tent flap. 

 

Blearily, from where he kneeled in prayer, he looked to see who sought him out so late. It wasn’t as if he was the army’s only healer, and although his door was metaphorically always open for anyone who wished to join him in prayer, no one usually took him up on it.

 

He most certainly did not expect a panicked looking Lon’qu to be staring at him with eyes full of fear.

 

“Lon’qu, what’s wrong?”

 

The man darted his head around sharply and without a word, he crept inside the tent. 

 

“I am sorry for the trouble, but I am at a loss as to what to do.”

 

Libra stood and offered a chair, coaxing Lon’qu to sit after a few gestures that didn’t seem to quite convince him to. 

 

“My door is always open. What troubles you?”

 

Libra wasn’t sure if he was expecting a confession of some sin that was weighing on him too heavily or a mere favor. Lon’qu was erratic, not easily read, and not at all his usual composed self.

 

“I needed someone who would understand. You see...my dreams are plagued by memories.”

 

Ah, so that’s what Tharja’s hex was for. Libra nodded, trying to act as if this was a surprise.

 

“I take it, these are not good memories?”

 

Lon’qu winced, as if even thinking of it brought him such immense pain. 

 

“The dream comes to me, most nights, some more vivid than others. I had...spoken of this with someone...which seemed for a time to ease its weight.”

 

Libra sat down on his cot, waiting a moment to see if he would continue or if he would need to be pushed to do so.

 

“And the weight...it has returned?”

 

“No. At least, not until tonight. Tonight, the darkness consumes me with grief.”

 

Understanding washed over Libra, for although he did not know of what these dreams were, he knew far too well how easily that darkness inside could consume.

 

“Ah. Now that, I know. Would it help you to speak about it or would just my sitting here with you in quiet be enough?”

 

Lon’qu blinked, as if uncertain himself what he was asking of Libra to do. Clearly, coming to Libra had been an impulsive decision and he had not yet decided where it would lead.

 

“Speaking of it...is hard. But...perhaps necessary. I can not push the darkness back as easily as it seems you do.”

 

Libra looked up, hoping that Naga would guide him, for he was not really certain himself how to fight back such a persistent memory. For as much as Tharja and Lon’qu said he hid it, he could only hide it from the world; but he could never hide the darkness from himself. No, so often it prowled loose in his mind, preying upon his dreams or moments of peace, devouring it like Grima itself to leave nothing but destruction in its wake.

 

“Sometimes the darkness can not be pushed back. Sometimes, you have to face it, head on.”

 

“How?” he asked, sounding so lost and timid that Libra momentarily forgot who was there. For this was not the Lon’qu of stoic expressions and focused demeanor. This was a boy, scared and lost and alone.

 

“Tell me, and we can face it together.”

 

He spoke slowly, words not quite formed or running into those before or after it. Of a girl, of love, of death ripping those away. It was oddly funny to Libra, that his darkness was the opposite. Lon’qu’s a past of love lost, Libra’s a past of love never given. But both of them blaming themselves wholly for the outcome, constantly wondering what more could have been done to change what fate had written for them.

 

They were damaged souls, battered and broken yet still alive somehow. They were fighters both on the battlefield and in their own minds. Constantly pushing down self-doubt, regret, and internal punishments for what had past. Always asking themselves, over and over and over, “What did I do wrong?” 

 

Not saying a word, Libra stood and pulled out two teacups. The water was still somewhat warm and he set the tea leaves brewing as he handed one cup over. His smile was soft and understanding and full of all the words unspoken between them.

 

“Drink. It will ease the tightness in your chest.”

 

Lon’qu looked surprised but said nothing and did just that. 

 

They sat and they understood, far far more than anyone else had, just what it was like to be in the other’s shoes. Libra wasn’t sure how long had past, but his cup was only half-full by the time Lon’qu finds his words again.

 

“Thank you.”

 

For the tea, for listening, for understanding. It was all said with those two words.

 

“Is your neck, is that from…?” Lon’qu asked, his eyes conveying apologies for even asking.

 

Libra blinked, unsure of when he could have noticed it behind the high collar of his robes. “A parting gift from my parents,” he replied, sounding far less bitter than he felt.

 

Lon’qu’s teacup clatters down against its saucer and he stands, his eyes burning with a fire of indignation. It was touching, Libra thought, to see someone so enraged on his behalf.

 

“You were too good for them, Libra.“

 

The words tugged at Libra’s heart in a way he didn’t quite expect them to. He sat down his teacup, it clattering with the force of his movement.

 

“That’s kind of you to say.”

 

“No,” Lon’qu was livid. “No, listen to me, Libra.  _ You were too good for them _ .” 

 

He leaned down, his eyes level with Libra’s, staring him down as if daring him to deny it.

 

“And she wouldn’t blame you, Lon’qu,” he finally managed, his throat tight with emotions he’s not used to having.

 

Lon’qu’s eyes went wide, blinked once, twice, before he held tears back with his pride. But his composure had shattered. Libra wondered if he looked the same.

 

They stare, lost and confused, daring one another to deny what they have said. Words they’ve never let themselves think or consider. It’s like healing salve to the wounds on their hearts, to have these things said, to have someone say them so passionately, so forcefully. 

 

Absently, Libra’s hand drifts up and brushes against the scar on the back of his neck. Somehow, it didn’t seem to hurt as much as it used to. But Lon’qu spotted the movement and his eyes flickered with worry.

 

He reached out, hand hovering beside Libra’s head, before he stopped it mid-air. Waiting. He looked to Libra, searching his expression. Libra knew he could see the flicker of panic, the involuntary way he flinched as the hand even came close to him. 

 

But Lon’qu didn’t look at him with pity. No, it’s something else. Something warmer.

 

Slowly, uncertain of himself, Libra gave a slight nod and closed his eyes, as if bracing for a slap.

 

Instead, a far gentler touch than Libra expected came to rest on his cheek. 

 

“You’re too good, Libra,” Lon’qu murmured. “ _ That _ is the only thing wrong with you.”

 

Libra couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that rose from his lips, nor could he stop the mistiness in his eyes. Lon’qu’s closer than he remembered, but somehow that doesn’t unsettle him the way it usually would. Their eyes met and Libra felt a smile tug at his lips.

 

“And you are a far warmer person than you would like to let on.”

 

Lon’qu’s cheeks pinked at the comment, and Libra had to bite back a smirk. They complement one another, he realized his own cheeks surely flushed as well. 

 

“Libra…”

 

He realized suddenly that Lon’qu’s hand is still upon his cheek. This is different, for both of them.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Can I stay?”

 

Libra blinked and Lon’qu started to withdraw. “Sorry, I can…”

 

“Stay,” he said before he could think it. His heart is hammering, but he felt oddly calm.

 

Lon’qu looked shocked. “Are you certain? This is...different.”

 

“It’s a good different. Somehow...with you, it’s calming.”

 

He shifted at that, his hand drifting down to slowly brush against the nape of Libra’s neck. With a feather-light touch, he settled his fingers one by one over the scar.

 

“In Ferox...a scar is a badge of honor. It speaks of triumph over hardship.”

 

Libra relaxed into the touch.

 

“I like that.”

 

Lon’qu smiled, warm and light. “It fits you.”

 

Libra reached out, his hand hesitant but boldly settling on Lon’qu’s collar, his palm flat against one of his deeper scars. “I see you’ve earned a few yourself.”

 

Lon’qu shrugged slightly. “A few.”

 

Laughter bubbled up between them, a quiet thing as if it was only meant to be shared in their little circle of warmth. They didn’t need any more words, slowly settling into a quiet routine. Libra put the teacups away as Lon’qu moved the pieces of Libra’s armor from off the side the bed. Inwardly, Libra found himself rather thankful that the army had been providing larger cots for the spate of couples that had developed as of late. 

 

He had never thought he would be part of that. Had never considered that he might share a bed and not flinch at every inch where he brushed against another person. They lay side by side like children in the fields, hands loosely entwined between them. It wasn’t much, but for them, it was a lot.

 

Small steps, timid steps, but still, steps in a direction they’d both thought was no longer an option.

 

Libra can’t help but smile to himself. 

 

Naga certainly worked in the most mysterious ways.


End file.
